


Ticklish

by under_a_linden_tree



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Tickling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-17
Updated: 2020-06-17
Packaged: 2021-03-04 07:00:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 473
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24769669
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/under_a_linden_tree/pseuds/under_a_linden_tree
Summary: In which a quiet evening is interrupted by a tickle fight.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 10
Kudos: 49
Collections: SOSH - Guess the Author #01 "You started it"





	Ticklish

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for the SOSH Guess the Author game, the prompt was "You started it".

Bright laughter rang through the parlour, reflecting off the walls and increasing in volume with every moment. As the volume increased, however, it turned into an exhausted wheeze, and finally into a half-choked admonishment.

“Will you stop that at once!” Aziraphale called, but the laugh still clung to his voice.

Crowley, with a grin of his own, did  _ not  _ stop. Instead, he very smugly proclaimed: “You started it!”

“I didn’t!” Aziraphale said, after taking a deep breath. “I merely wondered if - if -” At this point, he swatted at Crowley’s hand and it withdrew for a moment. “ _ Will you stop that now!  _ \- we’re ticklish, since - ” The hand returned, but this time it tickled the inside of Aziraphale’s wrist, resulting in another very un-angelic snort. “ - since we inhabit-”

“A human corporation, yes. Or in other words, you started it.”

Aziraphale put up his hand in protest. His brows were drawn together in displeasure, but a slight smile played around his mouth. It was one of those endearing expressions that had only started to appear in the more unguarded times after the Apocalypse-that-didn’t happen. Crowley couldn’t do anything else other than indulge it.

“As I said, I merely wondered. I didn’t ask for a demonstration,” Aziraphale said, voice hoarse with the exhaustion of laughing. “At least, I don’t recall asking for one.”

“Come on, angel, what else was I supposed to do? Your fault you never got tickled in  _ six thousand years _ . And your legs were right here.”

Crowley pointed down at his lap, where at this precise moment, said two legs were carefully being withdrawn. Aziraphale resettled, tucking his feet under his thighs and resting his head on Crowley’s shoulder.

“It was quite unnecessary, you know,” he said, reaching for the book that had ended up on the floor.

Aziraphale flipped through the pages, trying to find the place where he had stopped reading before the tickle fight had started. Well, fight was the wrong word, wasn’t it? It implied something mutual.

“Why?” Crowley asked, carding a hand through the curls in Aziraphale’s nape. “Isn’t experience the best teacher?”

He smirked, obviously thinking himself safe. Perhaps that sparked the idea when Aziraphale asked:

“Have  _ you _ ever been tickled?”

A soft hand began to travel up Crowley’s chest, gently prodding at the sharp outlines of his ribs. Up and up, until they came to a rest on the skin of Crowley’s neck.

“‘Course not. Who’d dare to tickle a demon?” Crowley said, leaning into the touch.

Aziraphale smiled. “Oh, I can think of one person.”

And suddenly, he moved his fingers in swift patterns, tips just barely grazing over Crowley’s skin, and it tickled like anything. Crowley broke into a harsh laugh and swatted at Aziraphale’s hand, but the angel was relentless.

“I don’t know what you’re complaining about,” he said. “You started it this time.”


End file.
